


#22 Homesick

by gpadow



Category: Gunsmoke, Matt/Kitty
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-09-20
Updated: 2011-09-20
Packaged: 2017-10-23 21:55:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/255428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gpadow/pseuds/gpadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kitty returns from Paris, reunites with Matt in New York<br/>Meet Drew and learn an old friend has been murdered<br/>Note: This is a follow-up to story 5 & story 18</p>
            </blockquote>





	#22 Homesick

**Author's Note:**

> This story respectfully features characters and canon from the television series, Gunsmoke, which aired in 1955. They do not belong to me.

#22 Homesick, part I

Nov. 3rd, 2010 at 5:51 PM

 

-This story should be thought of as the ending episode of Season 20 (with 21 expected).  
-For readers unfamiliar with past stories, the character of Drew Highfield is from "Tale Untold", story number five.  
The character of Clay Hart is from "Poet's Heart", story number eighteen.  
It may help to clarify this story if one reads these first.  
-I intentionally placed Sam in this story with Hannah. I just can not see anyone else behind the Long Branch bar.

 

Homesick

How far since then the ocean streams  
Have swept us from the land of dreams,  
That land of fiction and of truth,  
The lost Atlantis of our youth!

from Ultima Thule by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

 

Matt Dillon tipped his Stetson to the bellman and then strode through the lobby of the Astor House. Located on The Broad Way, between Vesey and Barclay Streets, the hotel boasted a vaulted cast-iron and glass rotunda. The big man stopped a moment to look toward the beautiful, curving bar as a bartender nodded in his direction.  
On that signal, Andrew Highfield turned around to call out, "Matt!"

The young man with the familiar smile waved his arm toward the marshal and in a few long strides the two were face to face.

Matt offered his hand and smiled, but Drew pushed it away and wrapped his arms around his old friend in a bear hug.  
Matt patted the young man on the back and laughed nervously. "Whoa, son."

"It is so good to see you, Matt.  
Let's go to one of the small, side dining rooms so we can talk."

"I feel a little out of place, Drew. Folks keep looking at me. I guess they don't see too many men not in a suit and wearing a Stetson."

"It may interest you to know that it was Col. Charles Stetson who had this rotunda built to cover what had been a courtyard in the center of the hotel."

"Are you settled in okay, Matt?"

"The train was late, so I just checked in and dropped my bag in the room. Didn't want to keep you waiting."

Matt looked around and added, "This is some place. The room is on the fourth floor and there are two more above that. Over three hundred rooms I was told."

The lawman leaned forward and lowered his voice before saying, "They have an elevator with an electric motor and toilet and bathing facilities on every floor.

Sure is different from The Dodge House," he added with a big grin.

"I was very happy at the Dodge House, Matt."

"Oh, when Kitty arrives I'm going to take you both to Delmonico's.  
The original. It's a wonderful restaurant down on Beaver Street.

But don't worry, Matt, I won't make a nuisance of myself.

Tomorrow is for you and Kitty."  
Suddenly a man arrived at their table with an elaborate tray that held a plate of cheese and a decanter of port with two glasses.

"Ubrisco del Pave, Truffle Tremor, Roomano," the waiter announced.  
Matt sent Drew a puzzled look.

"Ubrisco is a cow's milk from Italy, Tremor is a truffle goat cheese, and Roomano is aged gouda from Holland," Drew explained.

"Oysters, sir?" the waiter asked.

"Perhaps later. Thank you, Martin, we'll manage for now."

Martin placed a small plate, utensils and linen in front of each man, then he poured some port into each glass and left without a word.

"You were in New York to see Kitty off, but you didn't stay long enough for me to show you the sights.

So, what is your impression of New York, Matt?"

"Noisy.  
Those horseless carriages seem kind of dangerous to me. I came by buggy.  
I saw a train go by right over my head."

Matt reached for a piece of warm, crusty bread, and following Drew's lead, dipped it in the clear liquid that held several small onions. He was surprised that he found it delicious.

"I've never seen so many folks moving about, Drew. Just how many people live here anyway?"

"Well, there are about five hundred thousand Uptown. That's between 14th Street and 42nd Street. The City is rapidly expanding beyond that, though.  
Lower Manhattan also has close to five hundred thousand, but they live in tenaments, mostly."

"What?"

"Crowded apartments. I've heard about seventy per cent of the deaths in New York are from the Lower East Side.

The train you saw is the El, or elevated. It goes up 9th Avenue from Trinity Church up to 58th Street.

Speaking of churches, I'll have to show you and Kitty St. Patrick's Cathedral. It is quite impressive."  
At the third mention of her name, Matt blushed and took a sip of his port, not making eye contact.

"Yeah, she will probably like it here," Matt said more to himself than to his companion.  
"Paris is probably a lot like New York. Paved streets, big fancy buildings.."

 

###

Matt was exhausted but unable to sleep.

He picked up the pamphlet from the Anchor Line again, and re-read under the sketch of a ship, The Italia is an iron hull, 2245 gross ton ship with one funnel and three masts.  
That description meant little to him.

It had one hundred thirty first class cabins and seven hundred third class cabins. Matt wondered about second class and thought he'd have to ask Kitty about that.

Her itinerary was on a map with dashes and arrows. The Italia left Glasgow for Marseilles, where Kitty would board. It then went to Genoa, Naples and Messina before making the North Atlantic crossing to New York, then returning to Glasgow.

The tired marshal closed his eyes but felt too restless to sleep. He thought about Kitty's journey from Paris to Marseilles, then the Mediterranean ports of call, and finally New York, where Drew would show them the sights.

How can she return to Dodge City - return to me - after everything she has experienced?  
It was his greatest fear since Kitty first began talking about her dream of going to Paris.

Suddenly, the lonely lawman unfolded his long legs from the bed. He decided he needed to clear his head, so he pulled on his boots, and left room 412, taking the stairs to the Astor House lobby.

Surprised that there was so much activity at 4:00 AM, Matt had walked only a few blocks when he stepped off the curb and into the path of an odd, three-wheeled vehicle.

"Watch where you're going!" the driver shouted, as he jumped down murmuring about drunken good-for-nothings, and then he picked up a square box that made a rattling sound.

Curious, Matt turned to watch him. The man stopped at the doorway of a few buildings and left bottles of what appeared to be milk.

When the box was empty, he returned to the odd, horseless wagon painted with "Echo Farms Dairy" on the side, and then continued down the street.

Matt paused in front of some signs advertising Otis Skinner's debut in "Niblo's Gardens" and Ada Rehan's debut in "L'Assomoir" at the Daly Theater.

There were several other adverts for entertainments at the Madison Square Theater, Wallack Theater, The 5th Avenue, and others.

There was also something about Broadway being illuminated. Matt recalled Drew telling him about the Edison patent for the incandescent bulb...

"Might as well be in French," Matt whispered to himself.

Then he remembered Drew saying something about getting tickets for them to see a Vaudeville at Theatre Comique. He scanned the bills to see if.. yes, there it was, "Mulligan Guard's Ball."

Oh, Kitty, why can't we just be together and then go home?

###

In the huge crowd on the pier below she saw him. Kitty Russell caught her breath. There he was.

She smiled broadly at the sight of the man who stood tall in his courtin' coat and Stetson.  
He was scanning the ship's rail where the passengers gathered to wave to the crowd.

Then their eyes met. Locked.

Matt felt his chest expand and his heart beat quicken. He inadvertently swallowed the chicle gum he had been chewing.

Kitty wanted to jump over the rail and fly. Fly into his arms.  
She finally began waving as tears streamed down her face.

Matt returned her wave and then raced toward the ship until he was standing behind a rope next to the exit door of the emigration office.

Even though the first class passengers disembarked first, it seemed to take hours before he finally saw her through the open door.

So beautiful. Incredibly beautiful. He must tell her so over and over.

Kitty stepped out into the sunlight and smiled. Matt could read her lips: "Hello, Cowboy."

She ran to him and was suddenly off the ground, held tightly in his arms, spinning.

The redhead placed her arms around his neck and buried her face into his broad shoulders, knocking loose her new Paris hat.

"Oh, Kitty," he said tenderly.  
"Matt.."

Kitty's feet were back on the ground and she and Matt were locked in a passionate yet tender kiss, their lips in soft worship.

The noise of New York faded away and they were the only two people in the City.

 

###

"Drew promised to leave us be for now, but I'm pretty sure he has a lot planned for us, Kitty."

"Did he mention Clay Hart?"

"No, and I didn't ask."

To change the subject, Kitty pointed to a man across the room holding a sign that read "daguerreotype" and something else she couldn't see.

"Matt, we have to get a nice photograph made before we leave. It has been years since we had one taken."

Kitty wanted to know how Doc, Festus, Newly, Sam and Louie were and what they've been up to in the past six months. Hannah had kept her up to date about the Long Branch, and Doc wrote frequently, but she wanted to hear the news from Matt.

Maybe the time would be right for her to let Matt know about the adjacent building she bought as a future construction business for him to run.

Matt moistened his lips and whispered, "I missed you so much, Kitty."

He reached over to take hold of her hand.  
Kitty smiled up at him and said, "What are we doing here?  
Come on, Matt, we're going upstairs right now."

"I thought you wanted to wait until your things arrived so we wouldn't be, ah, well, interrupted," Matt said.

"Let's have another drink and try to figure this out," Kitty replied.

"On the other hand, we can tell the front desk to hold my things. Anyway, most of it needs to be stored until we get the train for Dodge.

Now, let's not waste any more time, Cowboy," Kitty added seductively.

"Your power of persuasion sure packs a punch," Matt grinned.

"That's a lot of P's."

Giggling, the lovers left the bar and walked through the lobby gazing at each other.

Matt gave the man at the front desk instructions to hold Kitty's things when they arrived from the pier.  
He wondered if she might have wanted to hide from him the number of trunks she brought back from Paris.

"Of course, Sir," the man said to Matt, while not taking his eyes off Kitty.

Matt gave him a territorial stare as he placed his hand low on Kitty's back and led her to the elevator and room 412.

 

###

"Better put a sign on the door, Matt."

With an economy of movement, the big man bolted naked from the bed to place a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door handle, and then returned to cuddle next to his redhead under a soft, goose down comforter.

Six months apart had made them shy at first, then quickly passionate with hungry desire.  
They were two orphans who found each other and held on for dear life.

They shared unusually meteoric love making.

Exhausted, Kitty was folded into Matt's body.  
Their knees were bent up, and her back rested securely against his moist chest.

"I missed you," they sighed simultaneously.

With his strong arms wrapped around her, Matt whispered, "You still have the softest skin, Kitty.  
I think of that whenever I'm alone."

Sensing his need, Kitty straightened up, turned on her back, and moved higher onto the pillows.

Instinctively, Matt rested his head on her full breasts, kissing and caressing them adoringly.

He became more and more lost in her, unintentionally fondling and sucking a bit too hard. Kitty winced but continued to run her hands through his wavy gray-streaked hair, and to match his murmurs.

He just couldn't stop.  
Most of the time Matt would be gentle, sighing "beautiful" or "Kitty" until he would drift off to sleep for a few minutes, then wake to begin again.

His intense need and his love for her was so strong it brought tears to her eyes.

They were together at last.

 

###

"Too heavy?"

"No. Stay there, Matt."  
She heard him ask her this a hundred times and had to smile.

"I'm sorry, Kit... I just... I couldn't stop... I didn't mean to...  
I'm sorry, honey."

"What do you mean?"  
Matt paused and gave her a soft kiss, then said, "I've been so selfish, Kitty."

"So selfish. I want to make it up to you."

"Selfish? Don't ever think that, Matt."

Kitty kissed his forehead tenderly.

"Any way that we make love is wonderful, Cowboy.

We're together in so many ways, it's impossible to be selfish."

 

###

Giggling under the covers, the two hadn't noticed the changing light from their fourth floor window.

As Kitty moved down Matt's body, she heard his stomach rumbling fiercely.

She began to giggle again and said, "We need to get you something to eat, Cowboy."

"Well, by golly, we missed dinner last night, and breakfast and lunch today. You must be hungry, too."

"I'm starving."

"Matt, I need to have a bath and a change of clothes. Can you check on my luggage?

I just need the two large suitcases, not the trunks. They're brown leather with straps and have a first class tag marked, "chambres 47" on one side."

"Okay, Miss Kitty, but I hate to leave this cozy bed right now."

"Like you said, we missed dinner, breakfast and lunch."

More giggles and kisses.

"So, how many times?" she asked in a deep, throaty voice.

"I wasn't counting." Matt couldn't keep from grinning.

Kitty watched him hastily dress. Before he unlocked the door she said, "You better check for messages, too. Drew is probably wondering what happened to us."

"Oh, I think he'll figure it out."

 

###

The Delmonico's waiter cleared away the luncheon dishes and made dessert recommendations.  
They settled on sharing a molded truffle ice cream bomb and baked Alaska, plus coffee and brandy.

Matt thought the Delmonico steak was the best he ever had, but felt guilty that Drew was spending so much money on a lunch. This certainly wasn't the Delmonico's of Dodge City!

Drew Highfield leaned in close and smiled. "Really, Kitty?"

"Oh yes, he is very popular all through Europe.  
When someone learns you're an American, they ask if you know Mark Twain."

Kitty laughed and looked to Matt. She realized he had been left out of some of their conversation.  
She also realized that he had not asked her any questions about Paris.

Drew, on the other hand, had a writer's curiosity and wanted to know her impressions of Renoir, Manet, Degas and Pisarro when she described her visits to museums and art galleries.

"I wish I could afford to be a patron to a promising artist," she said sincerely. "It is so rewarding."

Matt finally spoke up, asking, "Who were these patrons that have such a rewarding life style?  
You seem more impressed with them than with the artists they champion."

"Are you asking me if I had escorts to cultural events and parties?

Dinner companions?"

What else would you like to know, Matt?"

Matt didn't want to insight redheaded rage.

He turned to their young friend and asked, "How is Clay Hart, Drew? Is he still in New York?"

Drew put his head down with a troubled expression on his handsome face.

"I've been worried about telling you both. I wanted this stay in New York to be happy for you, not tragic."

Kitty reached over to touch his arm and asked, "What's happened?"

"Clay is dead, Kitty.  
Two months ago."

Drew Highfield felt tears welling up and his throat tighten. "I'm so sorry to have to tell you this."

"What happened, son?" Matt asked with genuine concern.

"They said it was suicide, but I don't know.."

Drew looked from Matt to Kitty. "I think he was killed and it was made to look like suicide."

Kitty asked in a shaky voice, "Who would do such a thing?"

(pause)

"My father."

 

###

Doc Adams crossed Front Street at the close of a thirsty summer evening, and pushed through the batwing doors of the Long Branch Saloon.

"Sam, the coldest beer you've got."

"Sure thing, Doc."

Festus Hagen was standing at the bar nursing a few last swallows of beer. He said to Sam, but directed to Doc, "Whew, it sure is a mighty dry night. Yes siree bob, mighty dry."

Doc ignored the man and held out a paper for Sam. The bartender unfolded it and upon reading, asked, "Miss Kitty and the Marshal are staying in New York?  
Why do you think that is, Doc?"

"Ya mean Mathew and Miz Kitty are gonna miss their big welcome home shindig?!"

Doc finally turned to face him. "Tarnation..."

"Oh, tarnation yer own self, you ol' scudder.  
Sam, what does that there tel'gram have ta say?"

"She doesn't explain, Festus. Just that they will be staying on a few more days and will wire us when they'll be returning to Dodge."

Doc gave his mustache and chin a swipe, then said, "Well, by golly, as much as I miss them I think this is good news. Sam, give Festus a beer on me.

I prophesied something like this, didn't I Sam?" Doc continued.  
"And, well, I think it's just wonderful that those two will have a little more time together before Matt has to put that badge on again."

"You proph-ed.. what? Talk English, you ol' quackety-quack," Festus said as he quickly downed his beer.

"Why, you ungrateful..."

"Can we have a hand, here?" Hannah asked as she and Louie struggled through the entrance, arms loaded down with packages.

Festus ran to assist, saying, "Ifin this here is for the big party, Miz Hannah, there ain't gonna be one."

"Oh, for Heaven's sake!  
Sam, you explain," Doc said before pushing past Festus and onto the boardwalk.

"What's going on?" Hannah asked while Louie worked to stack up the packages on a table in back of the saloon.

Sam answered her. "Miss Kitty sent a wire to Doc to let us know they will be staying in New York for a while longer, but they will let us know when their train is due."

"Well then, I guess we better put all these party supplies in the back office for now.  
Festus, can you give Louie a hand?"

Hannah smiled at Sam and added, "Then you two can drink on the house tonight."

 

###

Matt moistened his lips as he struggled with his string tie. Kitty stood between her man and the mirror, adjusting her hat.

She smiled and turned to help the big man, saying, "I know you'll be glad to stop dressing up, Cowboy."

"I thought that would happen sooner," Matt grumbled.

"I still don't know why we're staying, Kitty.  
What good is meeting Drew's father? I have no legal authority here, and I doubt the man will admit to something like this.

Besides, Drew could be wrong and Clay may have taken his own life. He just doesn't want to face that. Maybe he feels guilty or something."

Kitty stood on tip-toe and kissed his cheek.

"I know, Matt. I've thought of that, too. But we just can't leave Drew now.  
And, I can not believe Clay would have done this."

"You were kinda sweet on him, weren't you, Kitty?"

"I saw you in him, Matt.  
Even Doc saw it. Clay was a younger you.  
Without your stature, a smaller version. But his face and expression, his hands, his honorable character.."

The redhead leaned against her man and choked back tears, as he put comforting arms around her.

"I liked the boy, Kitty. And Finn Rider, too. They saved my life.

I think I was just a little jealous that you seemed to have a special connection with him.

I always want you all to myself."

"I'm yours completely, Matt."

(pause)

"That includes Paris, mister."

"I'm sorry about that, Kitty.

It drove me crazy thinking you were being squired around Paris by dandies who could impress you with so many things I could never give you."

"You give me everything I ever needed, Cowboy."

"Now, let's meet Drew so he can introduce us to his Daddy."

 

###

"This is quite a house," Matt said after they were led to a large library with mahogany bookcases and an Empire desk.

He stood in the center of the room uncomfortably holding his Stetson while Kitty explored her surroundings. She moved to the desk and lifted the hinged lid of a box engraved H.A.H. and then looked inside.

"A telephone."

"Kitty, you probably shouldn't be .."

"Oh look, Matt," the curious redhead interrupted as she spotted something on the lushly carpeted floor next to a black leather chaise.

"Looks like a water pipe," Matt said.

"Yes, it's a lovely hookah."

"You never cease to amaze me, Kitty."

They both turned as the pocket door opened to reveal a tall, handsome man with gray hair and spectacles.

Horace Andrew Highfield shook Matt's hand and kissed Kitty's.  
He made a formal gesture for them to be seated in two wing chairs as he took his place behind the desk.

Kitty thought about Drew's description of his father as a man whose heart was hardened by placing business success above everything else in life.

"Please forgive my tardiness. My business meeting went a bit longer than expected.

Of course, Andrew was supposed to be here early to give you a proper welcome.

He failed in his undertaking, as usual."

"We haven't waited long and I'm sure Drew will be here directly, Matt said.  
A good journalist doesn't keep regular hours."

Kitty glanced at him proudly. She loved that Matt stood up for Drew after the slight by his father.

"You have a beautiful home, Mr. Highfield," Matt said in an effort to ease the tension.

"Race, please. And may I call you Matt and Kitty?

I feel I know you well, and I'm so happy we finally have this opportunity to meet. It is doubtful I'll ever get to Kansas after all."

"Matt and Kitty will be fine," Kitty said.

The man gave her his attention. Drew did not underestimate this lady, he thought.  
Her long, elegant neck, dramatic red hair and deep blue eyes were captivating.  
Dillon is a lucky man.

"Forgive me for staring, Kitty, but Andrew told me about his adventures in Dodge City a few years ago, and I'm trying to picture such a beautiful woman in a gunfight with outlaws."

Turning back to Matt he added, "I would like to thank you both for saving my son's life."

"Your son is a very brave man, Race.  
I hope he told you about that part of the story. It isn't an exaggeration to say he saved my life as well."

"Well, you found your way I see!  
Sorry to be late folks," Drew said as he leaned over to kiss Kitty's cheek.

"Father, I took the liberty of asking Reynolds to bring us some drinks."

Highfield frowned but did not express his opinion that it was too early in the day for anything but high tea.

"Drew, Matt and I were just telling your father what a lovely home this is," Kitty said.

"I was born in the first bedroom at the top of the stairs, and when I got older I'd slide down the banister."

Kitty let out a big laugh and said, "I bet you were a handful."

"We sent him to a fine boarding school for a good education, but also to tame the boy a bit," Highfield said as he smiled at Kitty and seemed to relax in their company.

"Did it work?" Matt asked with a wink.

"Only to turn him against becoming a financier, which he thinks of as a family failing.

Andrew was introduced to books and his aspirations have always been literary."  
The elder Highfield said the word as though it were distasteful.

"A noble profession," Matt said.

Kitty wanted to jump into Matt's lap and plant a big kiss on his lips.

Reynolds came into the room pushing a trolley that held all the ingredients of a full bar.

Drew guided it over to the small table between Matt and Kitty and said, "Thank you Reynolds, I'll do the serving."

"Kitty, I want you to try this bourbon. It is the smoothest you've ever tasted."

"Sounds good, Drew. Make it neat."

"How 'bout you, Matt?"

"Rye whiskey if you have it."

Drew made their drinks and handed them the fine crystal glasses. Kitty lifted her glass and took in the aroma, then smiled at the young man.

"What can I get you, Father?"

"Oh, I think it's too early for m... well now, a glass of sherry would be nice."  
The older Highfield looked at Kitty and smiled.

Drew poured himself a bourbon and raised his glass.

"To great friends and to those we have lost."

"Cheers!" said Race Highfield.

"To Clay Hart," said Kitty Russell, grandly lifting her glass.

"To Clay," Matt added as they touched glasses.

"Did you know this young man?"

"We did," Matt replied.

Kitty added, "Matt and I put Clay on the train from Dodge and told him to look Drew up when he got to New York.  
He was a friend."

"A troubled friend. He died of his own hand. I did everything I could to cover it up."

"Scandals are only increased by hushing them up, Father."

Just then a man tapped on the door frame and said, "Excuse me.  
Mr. Highfield, may I speak to you, sir?"

The elder Highfield stood up while motioning to the man to enter the room.

"This is Matt Dillon and Kitty Russell from Dodge City, Kansas. You know my son, of course.

This is George Huckley, my head of security.  
It had better be important."

"Huckley," Matt said as he shook the man's hand.

George Huckley felt the strong grip of Matt Dillon's large hand and looked into the big man's eyes, then stared at Kitty, his face expressionless.

"Dillon."

"Excuse us, folks. Let's go into my office, Huckley.  
Drew, feel free to show your friends around."

Drew waited until the men had left the room, then closed the pocket doors and asked, "So what do you think of la pere?"

"He can be a charming gentleman and he's quite attractive," Kitty said.

Matt shot her a look. "But?.."

"But, I don't like him. I'm sorry, Drew."

"I'd be disappointed if you did like him, Kitty."

"I doubt you'll get any important clues from him, Matt. He is always in control."

"How long have you known his security man?" Matt asked. "And how well?"

"Father seems to be shadowed by the man.  
He makes me uncomfortable, but I guess he does his job well because he has lasted a lot longer than any of the others.

I don't know much about Huckley or from where he hails, Matt."

"Abilene.  
His real name is George Hook."

 

###

At the bar of the Astor House, the three sat sipping their drinks quietly.

Finally, Drew spoke up.  
"Okay Matt, who is this George Hook?"

"He may look like a Pinkerton man, but he was once a prison inmate, and I put him there."

Kitty really wasn't ready for the badge again, but she recognized Matt's lawman baritone and body language.

"How long ago, Matt?" she asked.

"Fifteen years or more, I guess."

"Are you certain he is the same man?" Drew asked.

"It took a minute or two, but I knew he knew me, and I figured not in a good way.

He wasn't as portly and didn't wear a vested suit. Hook was kinda skinny but thought he was a ladies man.  
He roughed up one of the Long Branch girls pretty bad and I threw him in jail. He came back a few nights later very drunk and he killed her.

I felt partly responsible and gave him quite a beating.  
You remember testifying at the trial, Kitty?"

"Yes, I remember now," Kitty said with a chill.

"Hook knew this girl in Abilene and either followed her or recognized her in Dodge," Matt added.

Matt turned back to Kitty and said, "I think her name was Lorna or Laura, or something like that, Kitty."

"It was Leah Amos.  
Isn't it sad to remember the killer more than the victim."  
It was more a statement then a question.

"Sadder still that he didn't hang!" Kitty's anger grew as she remembered the incident.

"I think they gave him ten years," she added.

"Ten years for murder?" Drew seemed stunned.

"The victim was just a saloon girl after all," Kitty said with bitter sarcasm.

Drew asked, "Matt, do you think Huckley, rather Hook, had something to do with Clay's death?"

"I don't know, but I'll find out, and if he did he'll pay."

Kitty said, "Matt, you say he recognized you. He may see a chance for revenge."  
"And another thing, he may have friends in law enforcement."

"Kitty is right, Matt. And if she testified against him..  
Well, you two should go home to Dodge and get back to your..."

"That's not what I meant at all," Kitty interrupted.

"Drew, what made you say that you thought your father was responsible for Clay's death and the cover up?" Matt asked.

The young man hung his head.  
"He knew about us."

Matt looked at Kitty and could tell she already knew what he had just learned. "Oh."

"Is there someone you can trust, son?" Matt asked, partly to know the answer and partly to let Drew and Kitty know he understood.

"We had some friends, but Race Highfield can be intimidating. Careers have been ruined because people didn't agree with my father.

This is all my fault!

I had an idea for a magazine and publishing business and hoped father would back us in the venture.

Clay tried to convince him that it would be a profitable enterprise, but when he came home he was furious.

Seems father offered Clay a lot of money to go back to Philadelphia, or even better, to Kansas.

We tried to get a loan, but every bank turned us down, and Clay was determined to expose my father's influence and possible graft or bribery.

Three days later he was dead."

Matt looked at Kitty and then said, "Try to get me a copy of the police and coroner's reports as soon as you can, Drew.

Where did it happen by the way?"

"Clay's apartment in The Dakota. It was a few floors from my larger apartment. I planned to write it off as a business expense and do my writing there."

Drew reached in his pocket and placed two keys in front of Matt.  
"I haven't been able to go there for the past two months."

"I'll go up there tomorrow while Kitty makes arrangements to have her trunks shipped to Dodge."

Matt gave his stubborn lady a serious look.

"We may have to find less expensive accommodations.

I know you have responsibilities at work, Drew, but try to get me those reports."

"I will."

"I don't know how to thank you. Both of you."

"Let's have a nightcap, boys."

Kitty waved to the waiter, and then dropped her hand over Drew's and gave it a gentle squeeze.

 

###

Sitting on the settee in room 412, Kitty was curled up against one end, reading a book.

Matt was at the other end massaging her bare feet and ankles.

Kitty reached back to place her longnette on the table behind her, and to pick up her drink.  
She placed the book on her lap, took a sip of brandy, and closed her eyes.

Matt loved the sweet smile on her face and knew he put it there.

"Umm, you are a marvelous masseur, Monsieur," she purred.

"That's a lot of M's."

Giggles.

"How's the book, Kitty?"

"Very good. I bought it at the librairie near my flat to bring on the ship, but never got around to reading it."

Matt reached over Kitty's knees to pick up the book from her lap.

"'Nana' by Emile Zola," he read.  
Matt turned some pages in the book and then mumbled, "French."

"So what is it about, Kitty?"

"A Parisian prostitute."

"The heroine?"

"Of course!"

Matt grinned at Kitty and handed her the book. She took it and handed Matt her drink. He took a sip, and then placed it on the table behind him so he could continue caressing her feet and ankles.

"Matt, did you know that the Metropolitan Museum of Art has moved up to Central Park and 82nd Street?" Kitty said sweetly.

"You're not coming with me tomorrow."

"But another pair of eyes may be helpful, Matt."

"Not this time, Kitty."

"Are you worried about Hook showing up?"

Matt ran his hand up Kitty's leg and playfully nudged her gown open.

He moved over her and began kissing her neck and ear while she curled her legs around his waist.

"I like the way you changed the subject, Cowboy."

 

TBC


End file.
